


snap out of it

by 99yeon



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: F/F, Smutty, Vampires, all members mentioned at some point
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-04 06:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14013750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/99yeon/pseuds/99yeon
Summary: Sana is an ache in the back of her throat.





	snap out of it

Sana is the easy one.

 

She’s trusting and innocent, and comes running back to Nayeon the moment she feels Nayeon isn’t giving her enough attention (regardless of how she’d threatened to leave her because _I really deserve better than you!_ ). She’s earnest, and always asks Nayeon how her day when even when it’s obvious Nayeon spent the entire day sleeping in. She texts Nayeon incessantly even though Nayeon never checks her phone.  

 

Others might (and do) call Sana a tryhard, one of those pains in the ass who won’t stop looking for you even after you skip town. Someone who thinks you have a future together, and will do anything to make that real. To an extent, Nayeon appreciates that, because it’s so... pure.

  
Sana is an ache in the back of her throat. Her teeth hurt when they kiss, and Nayeon wishes, wishes that this could be real, that she could stay this time.

 

She’s adorable. She giggles when Nayeon’s too-sharp canine teeth nip at her bottom lip, making offhand vampire jokes that Nayeon has heard dozens of times before. It isn’t different coming from her, still vapid and so irritatingly _human_. But Nayeon likes the way she smiles when she says those words. It does not make her different – but it makes her _something_.

 

She keeps up with Nayeon’s bad habits. She opens the door when Nayeon knocks in the middle of the night, restless and unable to conform to human hours. She invites Nayeon in wordlessly (if only she knew, right?). And most importantly, she’s a great kisser.  

 

-

 

There have been many of them. Some stayed for longer than others. Others were one-night sort of things, people Nayeon was eager to toss away once she was done with them. Some of them let her drink from them, even. Those were the fun ones. It would always be such a pity when she had to wipe them in the morning, before they got up and realized what they’d agreed to do.

 

A vampire! The lowest of the low, certainly, because humans hate what they do not understand. She’s used to their attitudes by now, but nonetheless, it’s infuriating to deal with. Somehow, she manages to be disappointed every single time.

 

She wonders how Sana would react. She’d probably panic at first – they all do – but Nayeon likes to think that she would warm up to the idea eventually. She’s shown great tolerance for nearly everything, so why should this be any different? Nayeon even has an idea of what Sana might say. Something like _That’s great, babe. Hey, wanna make out on my couch and not tell Eunbi when she comes over?_

(The answer’s yes. It’s always yes when it comes to Sana.)

 

-

 

“Who’s she?” Nayeon murmurs, chin perched on Sana’s shoulder. She can smell, feel the way Sana heats up when she speaks, and wonders absently if Sana is ever sated. For a human, she has impressive stamina. “Jeongyeon?”

 

Sana shrugs. "A friend from work. She’s nice, you should meet her.”

 

Nayeon watches Sana tap out a few more messages to Jeongyeon, observes the way the two friends have a back-and-forth. It’s mostly Sana sending heart emojis and exclamation points, and Jeongyeon replying dryly.

 

“Are you close to her?”

 

Another shrug. “She’s a friend from work.”

 

Nayeon hums absently against her neck, zoning out but still pressed against Sana’s back when the younger girl starts typing again. They sit like this often, Nayeon with her perpetual need for heat glued to Sana’s side, not doing anything but basking in each other’s presence. If Tzuyu were still on speaking terms with her, she might call her a romantic fool.

 

It’s nice to be like this. It makes Nayeon forget about the pressing realities of this existence, the clock that ticks with every passing day. Mina is getting restless.

 

Nayeon wishes Mina would leave her behind. She gets so testy when she stays in one spot for too long, and Nayeon knows it makes sense. Mina has no concept or desire of permanence. Nayeon was that way, too. Once.

 

Now, she wonders if she could stay.

 

It never works out that way. People get suspicious and start asking questions, make you feel like even more of an outcast. Or you slip up, spill blood on the carpet one too many times, or have someone accidentally drink from the carton of tomato juice in the fridge, or reminisce about things that happened a century ago. You stop being able to pass these things off as simple coincidence or slips of the tongue.

 

And then, always, _always_ , you go.

 

-

 

Nayeon is tucked in a corner of a dimly-lit bar, slinging a few shots by herself when Mina taps her on the back.

 

She senses her before she sees her, of course. Mina can be silent when she wants to be, which means that she’d wanted Nayeon to understand this. She materializes in the booth seat opposite Nayeon, upsetting the row of drinks and earning an indignant shout from Nayeon.

 

“Myoui Mina,” she growls, wiping the mess, “You better have a damn good reason--“

 

“Jihyo told me to pass a message,” Mina replies coolly, and Nayeon wants to roll her eyes. It really _is_ a mystery as to how getting involved with humans is so much worse than getting involved with other vampires. Mina would know lots about the latter. “She’s worried about how you’re doing with Sana.”

 

“Doing? How I’m doing? Maybe she’d like to ask _what_ we’re doing.” Nayeon’s starting to slur her words, which is worrying given her propensity for violence and anger outbursts when she’s tipsy, but she presses on bravely, wearing a goofy smirk she probably thinks is intimidating. “We’re doing lots of sex. Lots of it, with orgasms and fingers. Bet the two of you don’t even—“

 

“Enough,” Mina cuts her off, wincing, “I didn’t ask.”

 

"Bet you and Jihyo are too chicken to try—“

 

“I didn’t ask,” Mina repeats, looking visibly exhausted. She plucks a napkin from the side of the booth to wipe at a non-existent splotch on her chin. Nayeon deduces that she must have fed earlier, and her stomach rumbles at the memory of blood in her stomach. “Jihyo wants to tell you not to get too… attached. You know what happened the last time.”

 

Nayeon’s previously rumbling stomach turns, and she stands up from her seat. Her head is spinning and she doesn’t know where she wants to go next. It doesn’t matter. Mina just spoiled this bar for her, and Nayeon is never coming back.

 

“Where are you going?” Mina asks frustratedly. _Why do you always run from your problems?_

 

Nayeon walks, and doesn’t look back.

 

-

 

She feeds that night.

 

Not from Sana. Never from Sana, because Sana doesn’t know, and what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her.

 

She goes on the prowl, senses superior to any bumbling human’s even in her inebriated state. She hates bragging, really, but is it bragging if it’s true?

 

She soundlessly follows a twenty-something young man to his front door, and then she strikes. Makes no sound when she drags him to the ground and knocks him out.

 

He doesn’t even struggle, which is great. She wasn’t in the mood for a dismemberment tonight.

 

Her lips are warm and sticky with blood when she comes back up. The man is unconscious but not dead, and Nayeon rubs the set of holes to close the wounds up. He’ll be awake and unsure of what happened the next morning. If anything, he’ll just assume he fell asleep as he was about to come into the house.

 

It’s the perfect crime. By the time she walks off, her stomach is full, her appetite satiated.

 

She can’t help but wonder how Sana would taste like.  

 

-

 

She stares at the arrangement of pictures on Sana’s wall. They’ve been framed up with painstaking care, forming a heart shape that’s sickly sweet. Sana loves that sort of thing. It’s why she’d cried when Nayeon got her a heart-shaped box of chocolates for Valentine’s day, though Nayeon thinks that may have more to do with the act of giving chocolates than the appearance of said chocolate.

 

Sana’s given her introductions to all of them, of course. They might be just casual girlfriends (god, Nayeon hates that word), in the throes of a relationship that isn’t ‘meet the parents’ serious yet, but Sana isn’t some savage.

 

The picture at the tip of the heart is Sana with her best friend at a pep rally from high school. They’re hugging, a ball of pompoms in between them (Sana was on the cheer team, and was the flyer) as they celebrate their win over a rival school. Her best friend’s name is Dahyun. Dahyun is pale and tiny compared to Sana. She’s practically drowning in teenage Sana’s frame.

 

Dahyun is pursuing her PhD now, Sana tells her. They don’t talk much these days because Dahyun is so busy.

 

It dawns upon Nayeon that she knows an unhealthy amount about Sana, but Sana knows nearly nothing about her friends.

 

What would she say, anyway? _I have one friend. Her name is Mina, and she was assigned to me to protect me from myself. So I guess she isn’t even a real friend._

 

_My other friends? They’re all vampires, too, and half of them are dead because I got them killed. What’s for dinner?_

She shakes her head, smiling sadly to herself, and Sana nudges her. Her lips are already downturned in a pout, no doubt to guilt Nayeon into telling her whatever she wants to hear. “What is it?”

 

“Nothing,” Nayeon sighs, hand on Sana’s hip, and it really is nothing. 

 

-

 

It’s frightening how easy it would be to feed from Sana. Biting her would be easy, too. Holding her down would be easy. Letting her fangs slide out and biting her, feeding from her, filling herself up with her blood… It would be easy. Sana wouldn’t even have to remember it if she didn’t want to.

 

There are close calls, because Sana smells _so_ good all the time, and it drives Nayeon crazy. Sana smells like whipped cream and strawberries if Nayeon gets too close, and it’s all too tempting to bite harder than just leaving marks when she kisses at her neck.

 

“ _You’re such a biter_ ,” Sana had laughed once, before making another vampire joke. Nayeon had only rolled her eyes.

 

All things considered, the arrangement they have is nice. They aren’t serious, so there isn’t any expectation for something as serious as commitment or marriage. Nayeon _likes_ Sana, sure, but it can never go deeper than that. There is no love. There can be no love.  

 

-

 

Sana can be serious too.

 

"Are we exclusive?" she’d growled in Nayeon’s face, pinning her up against her door. They’d just returned from a dinner at a nice restaurant in the city, during which Nayeon made Sana come twice. Sana had promised to return the favour, but she was focused on other things at the moment.

 

Nayeon had shrugged, powerless and feeling tiny in Sana’s grip. “Do you want to be?”

 

(She tries, really. Nayeon tries to be laidback and cool about things, but there are only so many times she can claim to not care before she has to come to terms with the fact that she’d wanted it as badly as Sana.)

 

“I,” Sana had paused, and then nodded. “I want you. But only if you want me, too.”

 

_I want you. I do want you._

“Whatever you want,” Nayeon had replied.

 

-

 

Long ago, even before it was just her and Mina, there was Momo.

 

They still don’t talk about Momo. Or maybe that’s just Nayeon, because Mina doesn’t talk much at all.

 

(Mina told her once that she didn’t think she was a bad person. Nayeon is inclined to disagree.)   

 

She likes to think of the ten years she spent with Momo as a mistake. Mina refers to it as such, when it’s brought up during council meetings. _The Hirai incident. The Incident._

(Chaeyoung calls it the Momo Mishap.)

 

The Hirai incident has become a textbook case study of _why_ their clan can never settle in one place for too long. There is no place they can call home.

 

Ten years is not long, but it was all it took for Nayeon to be discovered, for the identities of multiple clan members to be dug up, to drag the clan into a bloody skirmish that culled hundreds of them. Nayeon watched her friends die by the hands of human vampire hunters who wanted to prove a point, who wanted to establish the territory as theirs and solely theirs.

 

They were fast, but the humans were faster. They had frightening weapons which turned their own strengths against themselves. Nayeon didn’t expect that, didn’t anticipate it, and cockily let her friends die.

 

Death and war are honorable parts of a vampire’s life. It is expected of vampires to coexist with it, because there is no peace without war and loss. But there is a difference between war and senseless violence.

 

It was the worst mistake of Nayeon’s life.

 

She feels like it might happen again.

 

-

 

Sana won’t be the first person she’s left. There have been many before her, and there will be more after they’re done.

 

Kim Jisoo. 1920. Nayeon fled in the middle of the night, hiding in a cart of hay and not peeking out until the cart stopped in a town she didn’t know the name of. The town was where she settled down for the next few years, drinking here and there and keeping a low profile.

 

Kwon Yuri. November 1929. Yuri had been the wife of a banker who’d lost everything in the financial crisis. Nayeon hadn’t cared much for money – she never has – but she’d empathized nonetheless.  

 

Park Sooyoung. 1946, after the war. They’d travelled the country, helping broken families and women recuperate. The habit stayed even after Nayeon left, and she made it a point to visit warzones to help the injured heal, to give peace to the dead. (It never does feel right drinking from the living when there are so many of the dead around.)

 

Gong Seungyeon. 1954. She’d cried and begged Nayeon to stay on the last night. It was a dry, hot one.  

 

And then there was Momo. Poor, precious Momo, who’d loved and trusted Nayeon with her entire heart. Nayeon had responded by stomping on it and igniting a war that lasted decades.

 

How will Sana fit into this puzzle? Nayeon wonders if she will even remember her when all of this is done, or if Sana will just be another month-long fascination that ended up being nothing.

 

(There are girls Nayeon cannot remember. Every time she meets someone new, she prays she will remember – but it’s easier said than done.)

 

Nayeon grits her teeth. There won’t be anyone who stays, and there will never be anyone who she stays for. It’s just how things have to be.

 

Damn the fates who decide it so.  

 

-

 

"Nayeon?”

 

Nayeon snaps out of her reverie. Sana is still scrolling through her Instagram feed, absently double-tapping photos. Nayeon doubts that she’s actually looking at the contents of the posts.

She holds her breath for a moment. Wonders if this is the end, or if she’s going to ask that question again. She prepares her answer, because this is the time to be earnest.

 

_I do want you. I want to be with you, like this, together. For as long as I can._

 

“Yes?”

 

“Get on your back. I want to eat you out.”


End file.
